


Eldritch Horror

by MasteroftheCrypticArts



Category: Marvel
Genre: Eldritch, Monster - Freeform, Poetry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-11
Updated: 2018-10-30
Packaged: 2019-09-30 15:16:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17226431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MasteroftheCrypticArts/pseuds/MasteroftheCrypticArts
Summary: An Alternate Universe in which Doctor Strange pushed the limits on magic and underwent a tragic, grotesque transformation as a result.





	1. Prelude

**Author's Note:**

> Steeply inspired by Abz-J-Harding's Lovecraftian artwork of Doctor Strange.

 

Ｒ̵̡̛Ｅ̶͠Ｐ̷ＥＮ̵Ｔ̷!͢  
Sɪɴɢ, Mᴀɢᴇ, ᴛʜʏ **Ｌ̷̷Ａ͠͡Ｍ̛͡Ｅ̧̛͠Ｎ̷̸̨͢Ｔ̵҉͝Ａ̸̛͜Ｔ͢͞͠Ｉ̴̢̨Ｏ͘͠͞Ｎ̡̛̕͡Ｓ͢͝!**  
  
Tʜᴇsᴇ sʜᴀʟᴛ ꜰᴀʟʟ ᴏɴ ɴᴏ ᴄᴏᴍᴘᴀssɪᴏɴ’ᴅ ᴇᴀʀs.  
Oᴜᴛ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ sɪɴᴇᴡs ᴏꜰ ᴛʜʏ ꜰʟᴇsʜ ᴀɴᴅ sᴏᴜʟ ᴛʜᴏᴜ ʜᴀsᴛ  
Bɪʀᴛʜ’ᴅ ᴀᴛʀᴏᴄɪᴏᴜs ᴏꜰꜰsᴘʀɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ʙᴇᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴛʜɪɴᴇ ᴏᴡɴ sᴇʟꜰ ᴀɴ  
Aʙᴏᴍɪɴᴀᴛɪᴏɴ. Tʜᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴛ ᴅᴀᴍɴᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴜɴʀᴇsᴛ ᴇᴠᴇʀʟᴀsᴛɪɴɢ.  
  
**ＧＯＮＥ** ᴀʀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀʏs ᴛʜᴏᴜ ʜᴀsᴛ ʀᴇᴠᴇʟ’ᴅ ɪɴ sᴜʙʟɪᴍᴇ ᴍᴀᴊᴇsᴛʏ.  
Fʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜɪs ᴅᴀʏ ᴜɴᴛɪʟ ᴇᴛᴇʀɴɪᴛʏ ɪs ʙᴜᴛ ᴀ ᴛᴀᴘᴇʀ ᴛʜᴏᴜ sʜᴀʟᴛ  
Kᴇᴇᴘ ᴄᴏᴍᴘᴀɴʏ ᴡɪᴛʜ Mɪsᴇʀʏ. Aɢᴏɴʏ ᴛʜᴏᴜ sʜᴀʟᴛ ᴡᴇᴅ ɪɴ  
Uɴʜᴏʟʏ ᴍᴀᴛʀɪᴍᴏɴʏ, ꜰᴏʀ-ᴇᴠᴇʀ ʙᴏᴜɴᴅ. Dᴇᴀᴛʜ sʜᴀʟᴛ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ  
Tʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴜᴘᴏɴ ᴛʜʏ sʜᴀᴅᴇ.  
  
Ｗ̡̨̡̕Ｏ̡͝Ｅ̡҉͜！̵̕  
Nᴇᴠᴇʀ sʜᴀʟᴛ ᴛʜᴇᴇ ʙᴇ ʀɪᴅ ᴛʜᴇ sᴏʀʀᴏᴡ  
Wʀᴀᴄᴋ ᴀɴᴅ ʀᴜɪɴ ꜰᴇᴛᴄʜ’ᴅ  
Fʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜɪɴᴇ ᴀᴠᴀʀɪᴄᴇ, ᴡʀᴇᴛᴄʜ.  
  
Pʀɪᴅᴇ ꜰᴏʟʟᴏᴡ’ᴅ ᴛʜʏ ʜᴀʟʟᴏᴡ’ᴅ ᴄᴀᴜʟ  
Bᴜᴛ Ｈ̶̡̛̛Ａ̷͟҉̸Ｒ̡̢͢Ｋ̵̵̧͘͢！͞҉͜͞  
  
  
_I̟ͦ͋ͤͣ̈̕T͙̫̪̘̮͔̘̊̾̃ͧ ̞̫̗̀͂ͥͨ͊̏̒W͇̹͍̃̍̓̇͜E̗̜̎ͨͨͩͧ͡N͎̜̣̱͈̱͋͋̿T͖͎͖̮͔ͅ ̠̙̺̮̅̋B̘̰̲̊̿̇̕Ë̖̪̙̮́͊͐ͣ͑́́̕F̨͇̤͚͕̞̘͇O̴͉ͮŔ̠̼͂́͘E̲ͪ ͕̂͂TH͍̦̲̯͆̊ͨỶ̙͍ͫ͡ ̲̗̜͆̿̐ͨ̒̋̂̕F̜̼ͥͩͮͪͬA̙̬L̝͙̯͍̘͎ͯ̌ͪL͉̹̜̼̻̬͊ͯͯ̈́̈̌͊ͅ!̵̗̋̀ͦ_


	2. Remorse

 

 **Ｌ҉̕͢͡Ｏ͞͝҉̷͠!** Tʜᴇ ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀ sᴘᴇʟʟᴄᴀsᴛᴇʀ ɪs ᴜɴᴅᴏɴᴇ!   
**Ｂ̸҉Ｅ̨͢͠Ｈ̴Ｏ̢͢͡Ｌ͢͞Ｄ͜!** Tʜᴇ ʜᴏʀʀᴏʀ ʜᴇ ʜᴀsᴛ ʙᴇᴄᴏᴍᴇ!   
  
Wʜᴀᴛ sᴀʏ ᴛʜᴇᴇ, Mᴀɢᴇ?   
  
Pᴇʀʜᴀᴘs ᴛʜᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴsᴛ sʜᴀʀᴇ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇᴇ ᴇsᴘʏ   
Nᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴀᴛ sᴄᴏʀᴇs ᴏꜰ ᴡʜɪᴛᴇ-ᴡᴀᴛᴇʀ’ᴅ ᴇʏᴇs   
Lɪᴋᴇ ʟᴇᴘʀᴏᴜs ʙᴏɪʟs ʙᴜʙʙʟᴇ ᴏɴ ᴛʜʏ sᴋɪɴ.   
Dᴏsᴛ ᴛʜᴏᴜ ɴᴏᴡ sᴇᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇʀʀᴏʀ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜʏ sɪɴ?   
  
Pᴇᴇʀ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴛʜʏsᴇʟꜰ.   
Iᴍᴘʀᴇss ᴡɪᴛʜɪɴ ᴛʜʏ ᴍᴇᴍᴏʀʏ   
Tʜᴇ ʜᴏʀʀᴏʀs ᴡʀᴇᴀᴋᴇᴅ ᴜᴘᴏɴ ᴛʜʏ ꜰʀᴀᴍᴇ   
Aɴᴅ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ꜰᴏʀɢᴇᴛ ᴡʜᴇɴᴄᴇ ᴛʜᴇᴇ ᴄᴀᴍᴇ.   
  
Hᴇᴀᴠʏ ɪs ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʀᴏᴡɴ ᴛʜᴏᴜ ᴅᴏsᴛ ᴀᴅᴏʀɴ,   
A ᴍᴀɴᴛʟᴇᴘɪᴇᴄᴇ ᴏꜰ ɢʀᴇᴀᴛ ꜰᴏʀʟᴏʀɴ.   
Fɪʟʟ ᴛʜʏ ʟᴜɴɢs ʙᴇᴛᴡɪxᴛ ᴀ ᴄʜᴏᴋɪɴɢ ɢɪʀᴛʜ   
Tʜᴀᴛ ᴍᴏᴜʀɴs ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜʏ ʙɪʀᴛʜ.


	3. Elegy

 

Thunder toll'd through the town thou loved   
And lightning rak'd the sky above   
Whilst our neighbors lay in bed that night.   
For thee they did not cry.   
  
To thee, they bat no eye.   
  
Stolen thou hast been from beneath our noses   
When the thief knew we would not see.   
And now to thee they supply roses   
For words come not so easily.   
  
I alone sing thee praise—   
For lacking turn of phrase!   
  
OUR HERO! Master of those cryptic arts,   
Thou art exalted beyond the measure of any king   
The heavens mourn thee with multitudinous hearts   
And the stars, bereaved, dull their twinkling.   
  
If thou could see how the sun doth rise   
Each morn cover’d with a veil   
And how the moon took with surprise   
Thy demise, her flaxen skin made pale.   
  
See how she scrolls back the clouds   
Each night and searches thy chambers for thee.   
When her fingers sift through empty shrouds   
She turns away to weep.   
  
For thee, I do not sleep.   
  
SUBLIME SAVIOR! Farer of worlds unknown!   
To where hast thou been sown?   
Thou, who stood before most hoary hosts   
And supp’d with plaintive ghosts!   
  
O! (For ‘tis incomplete without O!)   
Hist’ry shalt not remember me   
But it sends for thee!   
  
Whilst our neighbors in their bedclothes lie   
And enter slumber sound to-night   
I turn my head up high.   
For thee I search the sky.   
  
For thee, my end draws nigh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had it in mind that the "anonymous lover" of this poem is actually Stephen's scrub nurse, Billy, who, perhaps, had his love unrequited.


	4. Monody

 

O! A REPROBATE I AM, DAMN’D   
BY THE HALLOW’D COWL   
OF MY REGAL BIRTH! POISON’D   
BY THE FRUIT BORE OF THE SEEDS   
CAST BY MY MISDEEDS!   
I CURSE MY FIRST BREATH TAKEN!   
O ME! I AM FORSAKEN!   
  
Ousted by skill’d hands which wrought   
Doom from my own untemper’d haught,   
Carv'd am I into a craven,   
And now I mourn as did Poe’s _Raven_.   
  
I BEG THEE, KEEPER, LOOK UPON   
MY FOUL FORM WITH PITY. TAKE   
HEED MY PENITENT SPEECH   
AND BLESS ME WITH THY MERCY.   
  
I REPENT!   
A THOUSAND TIMES I REPENT!   
  
O,   
  
As dolor doth to my mind take   
And cradle my heart with an ache,   
I pray the Lords my soul to reap,   
And lay me down to sleep.


End file.
